


Once Again

by Manicies



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Family Feels, Kid Loki, Loki Feels, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manicies/pseuds/Manicies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewrite of Ibrielle's fic of same name. Loki had thought things couldn't get any worse for him - his army was destroyed, his master plan had failed, and he was probably about to get an arrow through the eye. Until, at least, he decides it's a good idea to try and waste all of his magic in a far-fetched escape attempt. Needless to say, it fails. Loki is changed into a child and the Avengers have to look after him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ibrielle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ibrielle).
  * Inspired by [Once Again](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/25623) by Ibrielle. 



Loki backed away slowly, heart pounding like the war drums, his boots making little sound as he cautiously tread as if on thin ice. Glancing around out of the corner of his eyes, even now, he saw no means to escape. Hands twitching, he felt his chest heaving against the firm, tight leather he preferred to encase himself in. Loki's shimmering crystal blue eyes brimmed against his will as his gaze flicked around, practically desperate.

The God blinked in shock as his back humped into the solid wall, leather jacket fluttering a little at the sudden movement, before a low, hissed curse escaped his lips.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

By this time, he should've been a ruler, the king of Midgard. The masses should fall to their knees, worshipping the very ground he strode upon! And furthermore, those thrice damned Avengers should have been torn to shreds by his so-called 'army'. What sort of assembly can call itself an army, when it falls so easily when their mother-ship is destroyed?!

Instead, he was trapped, left with no options, with a rather distinct arrow nocked only inches from his eye. And with his sceptre, the Mind Gem, clasped firmly in the hands of Natasha Romanov, there was almost nothing he could do but surrender.

Two options here, neither of which particularly appealed to the Asgardian. Dragged back to his homeland, the realm of gold and Gods alike, weighed down by cursed, binding chains, a criminal, a monster; or hunted down by the very gods-forsaken creature who had tortured him, twisted him to his own ends, who threatened a life even worse than death if he failed, which he had very likely just accomplished.

_What a delightful turn of events I've placed myself in_ , He thought to himself, bitterly.

“BROTHER!” Came the room shaking bellow, the ferocious voice coming from none other than Thor, the famed God of Thunder. The tall, hulking man stared furiously at the trapped Trickster, raising his mighty weapon, Mjolnir, in a threatening show of dominance.

“You know as well as I that there is no escape for you! Surrender now!” The blonde growled at him in his booming voice, still louder than what would normally constitute as a room shaking yell. His stormy blue eyes locked with Loki's panicked, crystal ones.

Unfortunately, Loki could naught but agree.

The God's body hurt like nothing else which, all things considered, was not surprising, what with everything the poor man had been through. He unconsciously cringed, a grimace of sealed pain spreading across his taut face, as he bumped into the wall again; he was almost certain that something had broken. A rib, or three, perhaps.

And if this wasn't bad enough, he had pathetically little magic. Even a quick test, the blue crackling between his fingers before fizzing out, the chill of his Seidr unabashedly absent from his thin form. In fact, he had so little left that, were he to make the moronic attempt to cast even the most basic of spells, he was sure that it would have nothing but disastrous effects on his body and any surroundings.

Loki felt like a rat; trapped, cornered by beings who had nothing but ill will towards him, no chance for escape.

It was not an entirely pleasant feeling, he could admit that to himself.

Knowing that he was out of options, grasping at straws, as the Midgardian saying goes, he fell back on his last resort. Loki coiled his fingers behind his back as he back to hiss out an incantation in an ancient language he know only Thor would be able to comprehend, magic once again crackling in his hands. This time, he forced it to remain, not allowed it to fizzle away; he needed no reminders as to how foolish this attempt was. In fact, he was almost certain the consequences would be dire, and there was a pathetically slim chance of escaping this place unscathed (any further), but he knew that his other options were less than appealing. He could never allow himself to be forced back to Asgard, as a criminal, to face the disappointment of his ex-family, and the disgust and contempt of the people he had once ruled.

Feeling the last of his magic surge through him towards his hands, leaving him feeling strangely empty, Loki thrust his hands out in front of him, the thrice-damned Avengers jumping back, bracing themselves for what was to be thought a mighty blast of magic capable of felling hundreds, destroying anything in close range.

That's what it was supposed to do, at least.

Because nothing happened.

Loki's eyes widened as he stared at his hands, the familiar, ethereal green glow faded from where it had built up, leaving him gazing at his pale, trembling hands. It hadn't worked. Not even the tiniest poof. He'd had hopes of at least disorienting the Avengers with a blast, enough to distract them as he fled, but aside from creating an interesting glow, his magic had gone entirely to waste.

Without warning, a hot slash of fiery pain licked up along Loki's spine, a heated chill passing through him, and his knees buckled, his body collapsing heavily to the ground as a hoarse cry escaped his lips. His cries grew only louder as the agony spread out, ripping through him, and the Avengers jumped back, all of them practically frozen in shock, an expression akin to a deer in headlights crossing all their faces.

“What the hell?!” Clint, the archer, managed to yelp out, staggering back and dropping his prized bow to the shattered tiles with a harsh clatter.

Thor cussed in a language unfamiliar to the humans, dropped Mjolnir with a loud thud before shoving everyone aside to crouch beside his brother's twisting and contorting form.   
“He has used too much magic. His body is ceasing to function!” He just continued to stare, thick brows furrowed in intense concern, before he blinked and looked up at the still-motionless Avengers. “Well? Call for a healer at once!” He boomed, the sound seeming to jolt the Midgardians out of their dazed stupor.

There was no hesitation from there on. Enemy or not, no one wanted to have the death of a God, a Royal God, brother of one of their own allies, on their hands. Not in such horrific circumstances. Natasha bolted out of the room, only visible as a blue and red streak, Clint streaking after her in blacks and purples, and Tony yanked his face-mask off, the only thing he managed to yell at Jarvis that wasn't smothered by Loki's screams was, 'And get an ambulance or something!'

After what seemed like agonising hours, the God of Mischief's writhing form suddenly stilled, his screeches cutting off with a choked gurgle, and everything went silent, save for Loki's haggard, gasping breaths. The God himself was noticeably paler, practically green even, giving him an air of being incredibly, irreparably ill. His thin hands were clenched into fists so tight, his nails had dug into his palms, glittering blood dripping lamely from his white flesh.

And suddenly, something began to happen. Something so strange that everyone who remained could do nothing but gape.

\- - - - - - - - - 

After a long, disgustingly long time, Natasha ran back into the shattered, ruined room, Clint and a medical team following after her, laiden down with heavy equipment.   
“Has anything hap-” She started, cutting herself off with wide eyes as she stared down at the crumpled pile of leather where Loki lay.

Clint pushed through the crowd up to stand at her side, glancing at her before turning to the strange sight before them “Wha-” And he froze. “...Sweet mother of FUCK.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were getting weird- not only is Loki a kid now, but he can't seem to remember who the heck they even are.

Loki awoke slowly, his emerald green eyes flicking open to gaze at the world around him.

His entire body seemed to ache horribly, pain tingling numbly through his limbs, and if he didn't know better, he'd believe the taste in his mouth was that of blood. Though he supposed it would accurately correspond with his sore body.

The God flipped his pillow over to the other, cooler side, but as he did so, he winced a little at the movement jarred his stiff arms.

Loki had no idea what he'd managed to do to himself this time. _What have I done now?_ He wondered idly, a huffing breath escaping him through his nose. He was well aware that he had a tendency to get himself into copious amounts of mischief and trouble, and to count every instance of such could be considered an impossible feat. But usually, he didn't tend to break every bone in his body, and especially not with no recollection of such. At least, that is how it seemed to feel to him.

The little god remained lost in pained thought when suddenly, the room was filled with, practically, blinding light. He recoiled, grumbling a little as he pulled the blanket up to attempt to shield his eyes from it, and barely managed to tilt before he felt his ribs seemingly screech at him in agony.

“Oh well, would you look at that? The little wannabe-prince has finally woken up.” An unfamiliar voice drawled out, practically dripping with sheer sarcasm and snark. Another voice grunted in affirmation, deeper and with less of a sassy undertone to it than the first one.

Letting out a soft, huffing groan, Loki tried to bury further under the sheets, but he let out a rather undignified yelp as the blanket was ripped off of him, revealing a man who was glaring down at him in rather an unkind manner.

“Look here, you little son of a bitch.” He growled, brown eyes glinting with anger. “I don't care what you look like or how old you're pretending to be, but I swear to God I am going to beat the crap out of you if you don't tell me why you look like a six year old.”

Loki recoiled, green eyes wide in fright as he stared at the angry man. Who was he? Father had quite often warned him of those who would dare to kidnap and try to hurt both himself and Thor, but he never once thought that it would actually possibly happen. He felt the cold sting of fear creeping around in his chest, coiling around his heart insidiously.

“...I-I..I don't understand....” The little god managed to stammer out, staring up at them.

The two men glanced at each other, the angry one taking a step back from the bed as he folded his arms over his chest.

“He....sounds scared, Tony. I never thought I would say this, but Loki actually sounds genuinely afraid of you.” The taller one said, flicking back a lock of short, golden blonde hair. The one called Tony huffed, rubbing the stubble on his jaw with a harsh, calloused hand.

“He also just happens to be the God of all lies and douche-baggishness. He's not called the trickster for nothing, Cap.” Tony snapped, glancing between the two. After a few moments, he leant back over to Loki, ignoring how he recoiled, and grabbed his thin shoulder, shaking him harshly.

“Look brat, you have five seconds to tell me, or else-”

But he was cut off by Loki bursting into tears.

Tony recoiled as if he had been shot, eyes wide in shock as the little God began to sob, clutching at the blanket tightly.

“H-How d-dare you threaten an O-Odinson like this!” He managed to gasp out between the sobs wracking his form. “M-My father w-will not be pleased!”

“.....Well....shit.” Tony slowly huffed, still staring at the crying child.

After a few moments, the taller, calmer one, (Loki thought his name was Cap, if he recalled), leant forward, reaching out with a thick hand, but he recoiled it when Loki shot him a wet, sniffling glare that probably wouldn't have even frightened an ant. 

“Loki...do you even...recognise us?” He said slowly, trying to avoid provoking the child even further, baby blue eyes shadowed by his brows, furrowed in confusion and concern.

Loki sniffed messily, and stared up at the two men, with a look of distaste that could be recognised on the God's face no matter what age he was, and he debated whether or not to answer them. Finally, after a few minutes, he thought it best to, considering his life now lay in the hands of men who were easily three times his size, and he took a deep, shaky breath.

“No.....” He sniffled, staring up at them miserably, and they blinked in shock. “Who ARE you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh! Thanks for all the support, everyone x'D I'm not a regular updater, but I'll definitely try!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the newest tennant of the Avengers Tower...Loki Odinson. He may be hundreds of years old, but with the mentality of a 6 year old, he has yet to realise why no one seems to like him.

“So....what's the last thing you can remember, Loki?”

The God sniffled again, staring up at them, slightly miffed by the bombardment of odd questions that he couldn't find any relevance for.

“W-Well...last night, I...f-father was hosting a ball, a feast, and...e-everyone was doting and f-fussing over brother, as usual...so I g-got bored and went to my room to read, and then mother c-came in and tucked me in-” And it suddenly occurred to the snivelling child that he wasn't in any familiar place. “This isn't my room. Where is th-this?”

“You're in the Avengers tower.” Tony responded immediately, face cold, and Loki flinched at his tone of voice. However, this told Loki nothing, as he expressed with a curious tilt of his eyebrow.

“On Earth? Uh, I mean, Midgard?”

At this, Loki froze, and his eyes widened. “...Midgard? But why...?” He sucked in a sharp inhale.  
“I am on Midgard?”

“Uh..yeah, I guess so.” Tony huffed, glancing around.

The small god could feel himself becoming distressed. “Who are you?” He whined, feeling his eyes fill with tears. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Well technically, you brought yourself-”

Tony was cut off by Cap's calmer, deeper voice. “My name is Steve Rogers, and this man is Tony Stark. We didn't bring you here. Your da-uh, your father had something very important to attend to, and he left you here for us to look after you.” His voice sounded incredibly fake by the end, and Tony rolled his eyes, cringing at the painfully obvious lie not even partially concealed by his words.

Loki could feel his blood boil. How dare they lie to him!

“You are trying to deceive me!” He declared, angrily. “I demand for you to t-tell me where I am!”

He could see Tony's mind whirring; possibly to spout more lies! But he was cut off by a jovial cry of 'Breakfast's ready!' from outside of the room. Tony sighed silently in relief, but he forced himself to smile at the indignant prince.

“Well, let's just have breakfast, and then I promise we'll explain everything then. Alright?” His voice sounded awful; too high pitched and happy. Loki grimaced at the sound of his falseness, but made himself nod, getting off of the bed with a wince as his small feet hit the ground.

“We don't mean you any harm.” Steve said softly, his smile and voice as fake sounding as Tony's. Loki pouted slightly, but he allowed himself to be led from the room, trusting that he would be able to run fast enough to escape if they decided that that was yet another lie.

“'Daddy had something important on'? Seriously?” Tony whispered harshly to the blonde, glaring slightly. “That is the best story you could possibly come up with?”

Steve just shrugged sheepishly, face a little pink as he walked out after Loki, scurrying a little to catch up with the child.

“The little asshole finally decided to grace ourselves with his waking presence.” Tony snorted as he shuffled out into the kitchen, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He'd managed to arrive there before Steve and Loki, as the latter had needed the services of the bathroom. “He'd been out for, what, a week? Week and a half? I was sorta figuring he was done for. I hate being wrong.” The engineer huffed.

Clint, who had just taken a bite, choked on his toast, leaning forward and thumping on his chest to get the crumbs out of his lungs. Bruce just frowned as he looked at Tony, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. “You don't look as angry as you should be. What happened? What did he say?” The scientist shifted to sit a little more upright, looking at Tony with an expectant look, who just took in a deep exhale.

“He doesn't remember a thing.” He managed to get out, the other two tensing at that.  
“What?” Clint hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously. Tony was sure that he had everyone's attention.  
“I think...I'm...pretty sure that it wasn't just his body that became that of a six year olds. It might be his mind as well. He literally has no idea what's going on. The last thing he remembers is his All-daddy throwing a party, getting tucked into bed by his mother early, and waking up here.”

Tony looked around just in time to see the thick brows of their resident God of Thunder furrow in concern. “You know what he's talking about, blondie?”

“..Yes....I believe I might. Back when we were both of youth, Father used to hold a great many parties, but the last one, which I believe Loki made reference to, was held...well over eleven hundred years ago.”

Tony could practically feel his brows merge with his hairline. “...Wow...eleven hundred...no kidding.”

“No, I make no jest.”

“You're seriously hundreds of years old?”

“Yes, of course. How else were we to have been in the Mythology of your ancients so many centuries ago?” Thor huffed, folding his arms over his thick chest. Tony had to give the god that one.

“Yeah alright. Moving on!” Tony snorted, overly happy, and he clapped his hands together.

“Indeed...nothing of this sort has occurred previously; but I could assume that it did so because Loki used up the entire store of seidr; magic; in his body, and it had to change to accommodate the limited amount he would now possess.” The Thunder God hummed in thought, once again rubbing his sharp jawline, scritching absently at his stubble. Tony nodded, leaning back against the kitchen counter

“Is Loki blue?” Thor asked suddenly, frowning in concern again.

“....Blue?” Tony frowned as well.

“Did Loki become a smurf since the last time we met? No, he's not blue, Thor.” 

The relief on the God's face was clearly palpable.

“So now we have to live with the little runt?” Clint growled, pushing his plate of food away; he'd obviously lost his apatite.

“Unless you are aware of how to return his Seidr to him, that is a yes, Man of Hawks.” Thor huffed, glancing at him disapprovingly, as if that could possibly make the archer like his brother any more.

“Can't we just throw him out the window...?” Said assassin grumbled, fiddling with the lip of his cup. Thor growled at this, climbing hurriedly to his feet and raising Mjolnir, causing the table to be pushed back by his frame.

“Have care how you speak, assassin! This Loki is but a mere child! To kill him to be to kill one who has caused no evil to anyone! He is innocent!”

Tony scoffed. “Innocent?”

“Look, Thor, I understand that he's your brother, but it's not just that he's Loki. It's just kids in general. Horrible, loud, messy, misbehaving things. I can't understand why anyone would want one.” Clint sneered, fingering his glass tightly, unfazed by the heated glare the God shot his way.

“Oh Barton, we all know you were an accident.” Tony snorted at the archer. “I can't imagine any mother that would plan something like you-”

“Shut up, dipshit!” The archer snapped in response.

“Are we done with the profanities, yet?” Steve suddenly drawled out, a look of disapproval obvious on his face as everyone turned to look at the doorway. Lowering their gaze, they saw a small, black haired child clinging tightly to Steve's side, emerald eyes wide in confusion and fear. Seeing his expression, Steve softly ran a hand through his black tresses, as if to try and calm him.

“Is that-” Natasha started, before cutting herself off with a nervous gulp, before her face once again fell back to emotionless. Even if she had seen him for the briefest of times before the medical team took Loki away, she was seriously not accustomed to seeing the smirking, sly God appear as nothing more than an innocent six year old.

“Loki, this is Natasha Romanov.” Tony piped up, sick of the awkward silence that had cropped up, and he gestured from the child to the red head. The child gave her a small, timid wave, that she did not reciprocate.

“She..does not seem to like me.” Loki whispered up to the blonde standing beside him, obviously having grown fond of him. He was probably trying to say it softly, but due to the sheer silence in the room, everybody heard him.

“Don't worry, squirt.” Tony said to him, taking a sip of his coffee with a sharp exhale before turning back to him. “She's always like that.” The engineer continued, ignoring the sharp stare Natasha sent his way. “And that grumpy gus there at the table, his name is Clint Barton.” Loki waved weakly at him, but Barton didn't even look at the pale child.

“Pass me some coffee, Tony.” Clint gruffed, holding his hand out, but Tony just held onto it, staring at him.

“Not until you and redbird say hi.” Tony snarked back, moving the coffee just out of the archer's reach.  
Natasha complied smoothly, face blank, but Clint hesitated painfully for a few minutes before muttering out something unintelligible. Sighing wearily, Tony pushed a cup in his direction, the archer hurriedly scooping up and sipping at it.

“Don't mind him, he's on his man-period.” Tony shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the cold glare Clint gave him. The comment seemed to fly right over the mind of the little God, so Tony let it drop.

“Alright, uh, the scruffy guy reading over there is Bruce, Banner.” At the introduction, Bruce gave Loki a smile, and the child eagerly waved back, finally happy to meet someone else who didn't have the expression of one plotting his horrific demise.

'He's kinda cute when he's not throwing people out windows...' Tony mused to himself, before turning to the remaining member of the crew, who was tensely watching Loki.

“And goldstuff over here is Thor-” And Tony cut himself off as he realised his mistake; too late, Loki's face widened in a huge grin.

“Thor is here? Where?” The child excitedly quipped, looking around.   
“Oh, uh...different Thor. Not your Thor.” Tony tried to explain, but cussed rather badly in his mind as Loki's face immediately fell from the grin. “Just a guy with the same name.”

For a few moments, Thor just shuffled awkwardly in place, before nodding his head politely at Loki and letting out a soft 'hello'. After a few moments, eyes narrowing, Loki let out a begrudging greeting to the strange man who shared his brother's name.

“Where is my brother then, if not here?” The child slowly asked, looking back around at Steve. Fumbling, Steve hurried to ready an excuse.

“Oh, uh, he was sent somewhere else.”  
“Can I see him?”  
“No!” Tony immediately replied, a bit too quickly, and he swore at himself again as he could swear he saw some of the hope dying in his eyes. When did he get so poetic?

“Well...if you see him, tell him that I miss him...” Loki muttered sadly, lowering his head. A strange whimpering noise seemed to come from Thor's throat, before the demigod strode from the room.

The room once again became silent, no one entirely willing to speak considering the strange situation they had all now been placed in. After a few moments, the silence grew heavy and awkward.

“What is this place...?” Loki asked quietly, slowly leaving Steve's side to stare around at the room in what looked like awe. After a few moments, he wandered over to the glass windows, which gave a stunning view of the near-ruined city of New York, and his green eyes widened.  
“We are so high up...”

“Well, now you're in the kitchen of the Avengers Tower.” Tony hummed, smug at Tony's marvelling. “Ninety three storeys up. I built most of it myself.”

“But why does some of it look as if it recently came out of war...?” He focused on the ruined buildings, as well as the shattered tiles and glass splayed across the floor.

“Because some idiot tried to bring us into war.” Clint huffed bitterly, glancing at Loki coldly. “But it's ok. It didn't work. We beat the crap out of him.” And he downed the rest of his coffee. 

Tony chuckled, before continuing on from that himself. “We're working on the repairs now.”

Frowning, Loki turned, gesturing to the crater on the floor that had been created when the Hulk had tossed adult-Loki around like a ragdoll just earlier. “Why is there a man shaped hole in the floor?”

Clint sprayed coffee across the table.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the summary, this is a re-write of the fic of the same name, written by Ibrielle on deviantArt. I was such a huge fan of it, that I knew I'd love to have the challenge of writing this myself. I definitely have permission!


End file.
